Saturday, December 3, 2011

A Decision to Live With

I always thought that when the dreaded time came to say goodbye to Elvis, I'd let my sweet greyhound go peacefully. Gracefully.

I would recognize how lucky I was to share all those wonderful years with this special dog, kiss my beautiful boy on his needle nose, and hold him tight as he embarked on a new journey. One that would entail racing off to join my mother who, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, will be eagerly awaiting his arrival on the other side with arms outstretched. Anxious to once again embrace her beloved "grandpuppy."

But I now realize that what I think I'm going to do and what I'm actually capable of doing are two entirely different things.

I can't let Elvis go. Not yet. Not without a fight.

Not while he's still the happy, affectionate dog he's always been: eager for walks, anxious to eat and ready to play. That's why I've decided that so long as his quality of life isn't compromised, I will do whatever it takes and whatever it costs to fight his cancer and extend his life.

I can't live with myself if I don't try.

This is why I've scheduled Elvis for his first chemo session on Tuesday. If he tolerates it with no ill side effects, he'll have four more sessions, spaced three weeks apart. This treatment could buy him several months of quality time. Every new day I get with Elvis with be a precious gift, accompanied with the knowledge that I'm doing the very best that I can for my boy.